


Stand by me

by TheRealAdamSandler



Category: It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia
Genre: Angst, Confessions, Drug Use, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Overdosing, Panic Attacks, Suicide Attempt, Vomiting, dennis and dee are there but theyre not rlly important
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-30
Updated: 2019-05-30
Packaged: 2020-03-29 18:58:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19025962
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheRealAdamSandler/pseuds/TheRealAdamSandler
Summary: theres probably like 100 issues with this but i cbf to read through it again ive been working on it for too long.This is rated mature because Charlie has a panic attack and tries to commit suicide in this.





	Stand by me

12:19 pm  
On a Wednesday  
Philadelphia, PA

The bar radio mumbled indistinctly in the background while Charlie mopped, he was too focused to eavesdrop upon Dennis, Dee, Mac and Frank’s conversation. They were huddled together in a circle at the bar, gesturing wildly and squawking at one another as usual. The few patrons at the bar ignored the groups squabbling and kept their heads down to look at their drinks. Charlie tried not to pay attention to the patrons either, looking at them would make himself question as to why there were people drinking at 12 in the morning and it would make him sad and he’d start reflecting. After all, he was already drunk at 12 in the morning.

He would usually be more enthusiastic about getting in on the gang’s newest scheme, but he hadn’t been doing well for the past few days and the bar floor hadn’t been properly cleaned in far too long. At least if he kept his head down and worked then none of the gang could berate him for smelling bad or huffing too much glue or whatever the hell else he was doing wrong in their eyes.

That was the problem, wasn’t it? And it had been the problem for a while. His friends meant everything to him but sometimes he felt like he was nothing more than a guy to poke fun at and keep around for laughs. And although this had always kinda been their group dynamic -with the gang never willing to talk about stupid shit like feelings and caring about each other- it was starting to get to him. He was staring to question whether any of them had cared at all.

But what hurt most was that he and Mac were growing further apart. 

Mac, who had been his best friend for as long as he could remember, who he grew up with. He loved Mac more than anything and it sucked because he never got to hang out with him anymore and he couldn’t remember the last time they went out to throw rocks with each other. He tried to tell himself that Mac didn’t hate him, he couldn’t, because they had been through everything together. But as more time passed and Mac grew more distant, the little spider in his head laughed at him for ever believing that Mac still cared about him.

“Hey, Charlie! Hey!”

Snapping back into reality, Charlie whipped his head back to look at Dennis, who is standing behind the bar cleaning a glass. Charlie only now realised that he had been staring at the wall and leaning on the mop. He heard himself mumble an incoherent reply.

“You alright Charlie?” Frank asked from the bar stool.

“Uhh, Yep!” 

“Alright well, uh... the floors don’t clean themselves buddy.“ Dennis smiled, and Charlie could feel the spider pattering around in his head.

-

Mac opened the bathroom door and it squeaked shut behind him. Charlie was crouched in front of one of the stalls with his arm down the toilet.

“Hey man”

“Hey” Charlie muttered back, gaze focused on the toilet.

Mac nodded and turned to the urinal to do his business.

He could hear Charlie sloshing his arm around the toilet and with a sigh the sloshing stopped. The toilet flushed, and Charlie walked towards the sink with some soggy balled up fabric in his hand. He turned to Mac and shook the fabric, it dripped on the floor.

“A pair of socks, man.” He threw the wet pair of socks in the trash bag next to the sink. “A pair of fuckin’ socks” he shook his head and washed his hands, muttering to himself. Mac ceased his pissing.

Mac hadn’t been paying too much attention to Charlie lately, he’d been quieter than usual, less of his wildcard self and more sullen. Looking at Charlie now though, Mac realised just how tired he looked. His eyes were creased with crow’s feet that he had never noticed before, the greys in his hair - especially his beard - becoming more prominent, his face drooped into a small frown rather than the goofy little smile he was used to. It was like age had caught up to him, and it scared Mac.

In his head Charlie was supposed to be this happy, affectionate little guy who was always excited and coming up with plans. But when Mac saw him now he was none of those things.

“You doin’ alright, man?” Mac asked.

Charlie looked up from his handwashing and turned off the water, he must’ve zoned out again, he was doing that too much recently. 

“What? Why you ask?”

The not-so-direct response wasn’t what he was looking for, but it gave him the answer none the less.

“I mean, you’re not like yourself dude. You’re different.” 

Charlies eyebrows rose. “What would you know? you haven’t talked to me in a week.”

“Yeah, see that’s what I’m talking about. You’ve been all weird recently, what’s with that? It’s like you don’t want to be a part of the gang.” Mac reiterated, taking a step towards Charlie.

Charlie paused for a second and took a deep breath “I dunno man. I don’t know. Maybe I don’t want to be dragged into the gang’s bullshit anymore. Maybe I don’t want to be pushed around anymore. Maybe I don’t like being treated like shit. I don’t know.”

Mac rose his eyebrows, not knowing what to say. Charlie took a second, avoiding eye contact. He looked afraid. 

“its just… we used to be so close y’know. Not just the gang but us, man. You were my best friend and we used to be ride or die with each other and we had each other’s backs but now…” Charlie shut himself up before he said something too sappy, but god did he want to say something sappy. He wanted to let all his feelings out and for Mac to pity him and for them to be best pals again, for Mac to hug him and tell him it would be ok, and then maybe him and Mac would run away to Arizona where they wouldn’t have to worry and where life would be easy. The spider told him that was a bit gay, as the spider always did when it came to Mac. He ignored it.

Charlie shrugged with a sigh, reluctantly bringing his gaze back up to Mac from the bathroom graffiti. Mac could do nothing but stare. He didn’t expect any of that and he sure as hell doesn’t know how to respond to any of it.

“…Dude, I didn’t know man. I can tell the gang to lay off for a bit if-”

The spider nagged inside Charlies head.

“No, that’s- that would be cool but it’s not what I’m trying to get across here dude.” He said, wildly gesturing at the two of them. “I miss you dude. I miss the way we used to be.” Goddamn it, he was going into the corny shit full throttle, but he didn’t care.

Well, maybe he did care because it had been a while since Mac had said anything and he was becoming more anxious by the second. Was it too much? It was probably too much. This was the most he had talked to Mac this week and it was just him spilling his guts all over the place like an idiot. Mac wouldn’t care about this shit. Mac doesn’t give a shit about your feelings or whatever gay declarations you have to make. All you’re doing is wasting your time and making him uncomfortable.

“Dude!” 

Charlie looked over to Mac. He seemed… worried? He looked down to see he was wringing his hands and he realised just how fast he was breathing, he recognised what was happening and Mac recognised it too.

“Aw fuck.” Charlie said to himself. He covered his eyes with clenched hands. He needed to focus on his breathing. He needed to- 

“Just calm down!“

“Oh my god! Don’t tell me to calm down! I will fucking kill you if you tell me to calm down!”

Mac flinched at the raising of voices and Charlie began to pace back and forth, the room starting to become too small and feeling too claustrophobic for him to stand any longer. Charlie busted from the bathroom with his hands covering his ears, the sound of the door slamming interrupted by Mac following him out. 

“What the fuck?” Dee calls, standing alone behind the bar.

The bar patrons didn’t as much as bat an eye as Charlie groaned and crouched in the middle of the bar, ducking his head between his knees.

“Dude, its ok.”

“It- It really isn’t, dude.” Charlie stuttered, feeling his chest begin to tighten and the environmental sounds of the bar sounding far too loud. The crackle of the radio, the clink of a glass, every tap of a foot amplified. He shut his eyes tight. The sudden feeling of Mac’s warm hand on his back surprisingly broke through the sensory overload rather than pile onto it. He felt Mac sitting next to him with his hand carefully placed in the middle of his back. He felt Mac’s caution and his worry, he could hear Macs breath attempting to come up with comforting words, and nothing but air coming out. Charlie felt grounded, and a growing sense of comfort. He sighed in and out through his nose, inhaling the scent of the bar, the slight hint of bleach, the nuts and alcohol, the smell of an animal corpse from the basement, Macs cologne, and the smoke radiating from himself. His brain registers it all as home. And when he feels Mac rub his back he smiled to himself and his chest felt like it was blooming.

And he realises then at possibly the worst time ever, that he feels a not so platonic love towards Mac. 

That’s all it takes to send himself spiralling back into anxiety and suddenly Mac’s hand begins to burn into his back. Charlie shook off Macs hand and shoots up, his lungs once again feeling way too tight and the world closing in on him again.

He heard Dee yelling at him but he doesn’t listen.

“I-I can’t. I can’t.” he struggled as he backed up to the door of Paddy’s. The sun outside stinging his eyes but it doesn’t stop him. 

-

Charlie slammed the apartment door behind him and hastily slid the chain lock on. 

He stood in the middle of the room and tried to breathe, tried to clear his thoughts, tried to close his eyes and let his shoulders lay flat, but there was just too much. Too many scents, too many sounds, too many feelings, it was far too overwhelming. His hands raised to his head to yank at his hair as his face crumpled in anger. His jaw clenching so hard it ached, and his breathing so erratic that it chilled through his sensitive teeth. He clutched at his head harder, fingernails digging into his scalp. Tears stung in his eyes. His mind felt like it was full of webs.

Too many scents, too many sounds, too many feelings.

Too many scents, too manysoundstoomany- FUCK!!!!

He awkwardly kicked out his leg and stomped it to the floorboards with a creak. Fuck calming down. It wasn’t working at all. He was far beyond calming down.

Ripping his head out of his grip and prying his eyes open, he looked around wide eyes, breathing frantically.

A single thought interrupts the constant stream of too many thoughts and he ran to the bathroom.

He shuffled to the bathroom cupboard, and swung it open without care, not bothering to take in his gangly reflection that was staring back at him in the mirror. His hands grabbed at two of the dozens of little plastic pill bottles stored in the cupboard, barely sparing a glance at the labels. He cursed when he attempted to open the bottle and he heard the click of a child lock. It took a good minute of fidgeting until one of the bottle lids screw off and fell to the bathroom floor. Charlie didn’t hesitate as he brought the bottle to his lips, swallowing a mouthful of pills. He worked on the next bottle, opening the second one quicker than before. He brought the pills to his lips and he tossed his head back. 

The two empty bottles tumbled into the sink as he abandoned them, going back into the cupboard to grab more pills when he felt something in the cupboard that wasn’t plastic. He grabbed hold of a tall cardboard box at the back of the cabinet and pulled it out. He looked down to the box. It was red and yellow and black. the lettering was bold and big but the only thing that makes sense to him is a cartoon of a dead rat. He swallowed nervously. The spider in his head taps its foot impatiently.

He hummed in anticipation and hunched over the sink like a madman, turning the box in his tremoring hands to find where to open it from. He ended up ripping the box open. He shook a small mound of rough pink pellets into his hand. They did not look edible, which was kind of the point. he looked at his hand for a good second before tipping the pellets into his mouth.

Charlie gripped the edge of the sink and lurched forward, gagging on the bitter pills, a few tipping out of his mouth and tumbling into the sink. He swallowed the rest and gagged again, feeling the pellets slowly scrape their way down his oesophagus. The rough sensation of the pellets sending him into a coughing fit, his body attempting to reject the poison. His legs weakened, and his lungs heaved as he fell to the bathroom floor, coughing and spluttering. He crawled over to the toilet and poked his head too far in, catching the scent of the uncleaned porcelain was enough to trigger his throat to convulse and gag. The pellets scratched their way back up the oesophagus, vomit spluttering messily into the toilet and across the lid. Charlie groaned at the sight, it was almost cartoonish in appearance. Green from paint with bits of red among it, and full of mysterious chunks that float alongside the pellets of rat poison. It was disgusting but he couldn’t help but chuckle. He couldn’t tell why he laughed, because soon after he began to cry. 

Face crumpling, his fist collided with the bathroom floor, knuckles thudding against the tile. He could tell it hurt like hell, but he couldn’t be bothered to feel it. He spat into the toilet for good measure, wiping his mouth against the inside of his shirt. 

With his face still curled down into a frown he crawled back into the main room, tears still dripping down his cheeks and dangling from his chin. The only thing he can feel right now is overwhelming self-hatred. He felt pathetic, and stupid, and disgusting, and weak and stupidly pathetic, and disgustingly weak. Every word and negative adjective that came to mind cut deeper and deeper. He was weak. He curled in on himself and screwed his eyes together tightly, suddenly too weak to hold himself up anymore. He hugged his knees, pain beginning to sink in through his body, and he sobbed.

-

“What the fuck was that all about!” Dee asked from her beer in such a shrill tone that it stung Mac’s ears.

“I… don’t know, he just started freaking out.” Mac was still looking at the door. He felt himself waiting for Charlie to come back but he knew he was gone. He headed to the door to follow.

“Um? Are you kidding me?”

“…What?” 

Dee slammed her glass down and gave Mac an outraged look. 

“Mac, do you expect me to pour drinks, wait tables, and do Charlie work with this crowd? I can’t do this shit by myself!”

Mac looked around the bar. Business was anything but booming. It was still early in the afternoon.

“Oh, well, good luck I guess.” He said, turning back to the door and opening it.

“No! Not ‘good luck’! I’m not doing this shit by myself!”

“Good luck! Bye!” Mac yelled, followed by the sound of the door slamming behind him.

He can hear a muffled “Goddamn It!” from back in the Bar, but he ignored it. He brought his mind back to the topic of Charlie, who had probably booked it back to his apartment by now. Mac hadn’t properly talked to Charlie in a while and admittedly he had forgotten how emotional and vulnerable Charlie could be, but he couldn’t remember ever seeing him like that. He’d seen Charlie have panic attacks before, he was the one to calm him down whenever he had them at school, but it had been so long. He had forgotten the Charlie that wasn’t hyper and excited all the time, he forgot that Charlie could be anything but his excitable and goofy self that he was so used to. It was jarring to see him lose it again just like he did when they were in school. 

Mac felt a squeeze at his heart when he thought back to Charlie’s face. He thought back to how wide his eyes were. The way his eyebrows had curved, like he didn’t even realise how scared he was. He seemed genuinely afraid, and Mac was worried that he was the one who made him feel that way. 

Mac ended up walking to Charlie’s apartment building without really thinking about it. He didn’t know what he’d say to Charlie when he saw him, all he knew was that Charlie needed someone right now.

Mac pushed into the apartment building, climbed the glass covered stairs, stepped over the sleeping bodies in the hallway, and finally made it to Charlies door. He knocked a quick tune.

“Hey bud, are you in?”

Mac waited for a response but got nothing.

He knew something was off when he realised the door to the apartment was locked. Neither Frank nor Charlie ever cared enough to lock their door. Mac closed the door and tried to open it with more force. Nothing.

“Charlie, I know you’re in there. It’s Mac, let me in.”

Mac leaned onto the door and peered through the crack. He couldn’t see much from here, but when he focused his eyes a bit more he could make out Charlies hand laying limp on the floor. Mac’s mind immediately went to dark places and he felt his heart drop.

Mac didn’t waste any more time, he backed up to the opposite side of the hall, squeezed his eyes shut and ran straight into Charlies door with his shoulder. It didn’t really work as planned, the door was still in place and now Mac’s arm really hurt. But he had two arms. Mac tried again, faster this time and with his right shoulder. The door swung right open upon impact, and Mac went tumbling to the apartment floor.

Mac could hear Charlie make a weird noise, like a snore but more guttural and gross sounding. Now that he could see Charlie properly he got a hell of a lot more worried. His eyes were closed, and he was in fetal position on the floor, his left hand gripping his stomach and his right arm under his head, acting like a pillow. Charlie was covered in sweat, copious amounts of saliva pouring from his open mouth and forming a puddle underneath him. If he couldn’t hear Charlies gurgling Mac would’ve thought he was dead.

He swore under his breath and rushed over to kneel by Charlie.

“Charlie! Hey! Buddy! Come on, man!”

Mac gripped his shoulder and shook it hard. Charlie let out a half-hearted groan, so he shook him harder. Charlies body shook with a gurgling cough, his eyes fluttering open and rolling back to the front of his head, he looked to Mac then around the room manically as he continued to cough and wretch. Mac looked around the floor and quickly snatched the empty bedpan, nudging it to Charlies face. Charlie lifted his head from his saliva-soaked arm and gagged into the bedpan, placing one of his hands atop Mac’s and gripping tightly at the bowl. Mac whipped his head around to avert his eyes, the sound of Charlie groaning and vomit spluttering unevenly into the stainless steel pan almost making himself vomit, only turning his head back once the vomiting had stopped. Charlies hand atop his went limp and fell back to the floor, his eyes unfocused on the ground. Mac put the bedpan down beside him and pushed Charlies sweaty hair back from his forehead, pushing himself closer to Charlie while avoiding touching the pool of saliva. 

“… Are you okay, Man?” Mac asked, his voice quiet, sad and careful as if Charlie was asleep. 

Charlies breathing was shaky, he looked at Mac with an unfamiliar expression on his face, then back down to the arm he was propping himself up with.

“I’m… sticky…”

Mac smiled. It wasn’t close to a full sentence, but he was happy to hear Charlie’s voice.

“Yeah dude, you salivated fuckin’ everywhere man.”

“…Salivate?” Charlie mumbled, leaning his weight on his hand to get into an upright position. He looked down again to see his hand in the middle of his saliva puddle.

“Oh shit.” Charlie slurred.

“Yeah” Mac nodded, placing an arm on Charlies shoulder to help steady him. He quickly leaned over Charlie to swipe a rag from the makeshift kitchen bench he was sat next to. Mac adjusted himself so he was sitting cross legged directly in front of Charlie, whose face was entirely coated with saliva on the right side. Mac gently held his face in position with one hand and started to wipe off the saliva with the rag. Charlies skin was warm. He went quiet and averted his eyes while Mac cleaned, silently turning his head when Mac grabbed his chin so he could wipe down the side of his head. Mac didn’t talk, instead he focussed on cleaning the last of the saliva from Charlies ear. He could feel worry clenching tight at his throat.

Charlies face creases into a smile, the first smile he’s seen from Charlie in a while.

“Thanks.” Charlie says in a small voice. 

“No problem.” Mac said with a sad smile, his knees still pressing against Charlies. Concern still sewed into his heart. “You scared the shit outta me man, what were you doing?”

Charlie wobbled where he sat, gaze flicking back and forth from Mac’s eyes then falling back to the floor. He struggled to look for words. 

“I just… I freaked out.” Charlie mumbled, hands curling into fists. He seemed so depressed, it killed Mac.

“So I took whatever I saw. I was scared.” Charlie muttered, scratching his beard. He was still scared, but now because he felt like he was disappointing Mac.

Mac could see this, and instead of responding by treating him like an idiot like Charlie expected him to, he leaned forward and wrapped his arms around Charlie. He nuzzled his face into Charlies neck. The warmth of the embrace made Charlies heart skip a beat, his heart pumping back alive again. He slowly placed his hands onto Mac’s back and let himself relax in his arms. He felt his heart flutter and his eyes well up with emotion. Charlie buried his face into Mac’s shoulder and let himself cry. They sat there holding each other in silence for a good 10 minutes, the occasional sniffle was the only sound accompanying the silence. Charlie broke the embrace to wipe his nose, pulling away from Mac’s chest and wiping at his nose with the back of his wrist. Through his wet eyes he could see that Mac had also been crying, wetness sparkling under his eyes. He didn’t know why Mac would be crying, but he didn’t ask why. Mac reached up and wiped the tears from Charlie’s eyes with his hand and Charlie could feel his heart expand in his chest.

“I think-“ Charlie started, not bothering to think about what he was saying. 

“I think I love you, dude” He said suddenly. The second the words came out of Charlies mouth they stuck in the air. He wasn’t sure if Mac had heard him, and now that he knew what he said out loud he knew he wouldn’t be able to repeat it. Charlie felt his heart fly into his throat as he looked to Mac with round eyes, patiently waiting for a reply. Seconds passed and Charlie felt like punching himself for being an idiot, for thinking it would just be cool to say that shit to his friend. His best friend. But genuine happiness slowly filled Macs eyes and the widest smile he had ever seen spread across his face. And just like that, all thoughts of pill bottles and spiders vanished from his mind.

-

**Author's Note:**

> mac didnt wash his hands


End file.
